


Something old, something new, Something borrowed, something blue, And a silver sixpence in her shoe.

by ismellsarcasm



Series: Quick prompts [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Mystery, Mystery journal, Not about a wedding, abandoned house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 18:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20729027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ismellsarcasm/pseuds/ismellsarcasm
Summary: What happens when you explore the old mansion near your house after it is announced it will be demolished





	Something old, something new, Something borrowed, something blue, And a silver sixpence in her shoe.

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo!  
A little more forethought went into this work, so hopefully you´ll enjoy it :D  
Also, please let me know if you´d like me to continue with this story! I am thinking it could be left pretty open ended like how it is now, but I could definitely expand it.

All’s well that ends well. That’s what my mom always says and, for this story, she was right.

I was walking home one evening, more specifically I was dragging my feet in the general direction of my home. I had lost the new earrings that my grandfather had managed to send me all the way from Australia, I was hoping that maybe I had just forgotten to put them on in the morning; but an incessant voice in my head kept convincing me that there was no way I had forgotten to put them on, I had been looking forward all week to wear them. There was absolutely no way. I had definitively lost them. And so I wandered sorrowfully through the desolated grassland that I used to make my way to my house shorter. That’s when I saw it.

“NOTICE: THE MANSION GINDDEW WILL BE PREPARED FOR DEMOLITION THE NEXT MONTH. PLEASE AVOID SURROUNDING AREAS FOR YOUR SAFETY.”

The massive sign towered over me as I noticed the old mansion. Now, it might have been because of how tired I was or maybe I just really wanted a distraction, but when I saw the lonely mansion floating in a sea of green with a death sentence looming over it, I felt it cry. I heard the wails of a lost home and the woes of an incomplete story. Before I could talk myself out of it I had walked up to it and slowly opened the door.

The mansion was still furnished, although most of the furniture had white sheets protecting them from the dangerous amount of dust I was definitely inhaling. I looked at the walls and the ceiling as I slowly made my way deeper into the house. More than a mansion, this looked like an old abandoned palace; like the ones that always appear in movies. The high ceilings and the blue curtains gave the house an ethereal glow and the portraits that hanged on the wall looked at me with a fond, nostalgic look. Usually the thought of paintings of people I don’t know would be enough to send me running for the hills, but on that day I just merrily continued my impromptu anthropology project into a bedroom at the end of the hall.

“The guest room.” I muttered with all the confidence of someone who had lived there. At the time I thought I had just arrived to a logical conclusion. Rooms are usually in the second floor, if there is one in the first floor it must be for guests.

I made my way into the apparent guest room; it was much messier than the rest of the house had been. Old clothes were thrown everywhere, an open suitcase with all sorts of trinkets had been abandoned on top of the bed. It seemed that whoever was in this room had been in a rush to leave, but simply vanished halfway.

As I continued with my musings I accidentally stepped on a leather journal that had been left on the floor. When I picked it up a small coin dropped, the metallic sound of it against the stone floor echoed throughout the house. I recovered the small note and the rebellious little coin, and read,

“To pay for the journey I will be embarking with you. Hopefully our travels will let us rest at last.”

***

On that day, I accepted the mission that old mansion had sent me on.

I walked back to my house with the journal at hand. It wasn’t stealing per se, if I found the rightful owner, it would mean I was just temporarily borrowing it. I just couldn’t let a story this good die with the mansion. To this day I’m not sure if I just went crazy that day, or if an old ghost from the house possessed me. All I knew was that this journal would change my life.

**Author's Note:**

> The story is kind of incomplete cause it was originally just a prompt from a Creative Writing class, but I might remake it with another concept I had for a while  
As usual kudos, comment and constructive criticism are always appreciated.
> 
> Have a good day and eat something healthy!
> 
> I might also publish this story in my Tumblr, if you want to check it up there :D  
https://i-smell-art.tumblr.com  
Also my personal Tumblr:  
https://i-smell-sarcasm.tumblr.com/


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